Survival
by ZetaStar
Summary: AU Cedric surives by taking the portkey back, and Harry, while escaping alive another way, finds himself flying lost into darkness.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not only do I not own Harry Potter, nor do I intend to make any money from this story, but more than half of this first chapter is words from the lady herself. Any future chapters will be original, but this was needed to get the story going.

"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.

"Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I dunno," said Cedric standing still next to the Triwizard Cup. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.

They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him, and started noticing the familiar scenes from his dreams. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.

"Someone's coming," he said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And—several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time—Harry saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby …or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure.

"Cedric, take the portkey back. Someone's coming," he said suddenly.

"No, Harry. With both of us –"

"NOW!"

All at once, someone yelled "Kill the spare," "Avada Kedavra" and the noise of a portkey initiating was heard. Cedric had escaped with his life.

The next few precious moments seemed endless. His arm was cut, and all the ingredients were added to the cauldron to bring back the monster known as Voldemort. The Dark Lord rose, and then he death eaters were called and chastised for their years of inactivity.

"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand—and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon Harry lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man… straight-backed and proud, the way your father died…

"And now—we duel."

Curses were exchanged and Harry fought as best he could. In the end, the only thing that could help were the spirits flying out of Voldemort's wand. The bright lights representing Harry's parents swirled around the dome, coming to a stop next to him.

The wisp of his father looked over his son and asked, "Harry, are you carrying my cloak?"

Harry nodded.

"Run Harry," his mother urgently said. "Run behind the gravestone, put the cloak on and run! Get away from here. We can linger for a few moments to give you time, but you need to run!"

"Do it now," whispered his father's voice, "be ready to run… do it now…"

"NOW!" Harry yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway—he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died—but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear—they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze—

And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones—he was dodging curses and graves, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do—

"Stun him!" he heard Voldemort scream.

Harry dove behind the gravestones, threw his invisibility cloak on, and then ran as fast and quietly as he could. He only turned to look back once, when the fog of Voldemort's past deeds were just starting to fade, and realized his time to escape was disappearing. He ran for what felt like hours. He ran past the house where Voldemort had hid for so many months, past the entrance to the nearby town, and just into the nearby forest. When his leg felt like it would fall off he'd ran so hard, Harry found a cluster of trees he felt safe enough to hide in for a few minutes, he brought out his wand and yelled "Accio Broom, Accio Firebolt!" It was a long shot, but his leg hurt too badly to go much further without some other mode of transportation.

He waited for what seemed for forever. When he started to hear voices in the distance, he panicked, but knew that, in a foot race, he could never win. He waited until he heard a thump next to him. The noise startled him, but when he looked over, he saw an old Cleansweep broom lying there waiting to help him escape. He quietly got on the broom and flew away as fast as possible. It was then that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived once again, disappeared into the night. The Dark Lord may have been resurrected, but at least both he and Cedric had escaped with their lives.

A/N: Well, Here's a new story. I was watching HBO tonight, and this little plot bunny just came up to bite me in the butt. I have no clue where this story is going, but I wanted to get something out so I wouldn't forget it. I'm thinking I'm fond of Harry running away stories (I know I would in his case), so I'll probably go that way. It'll also most likely be H/Hr (if any pairing), just as a warning to those who don't go for that.

What do you think, is it worth continuing?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor will I make any money from this story.

It had been over three months from his escape that Harry first sneaked his was into a magical community. Even though he'd decided to hide, disgusted with himself for helping to bring back Voldemort, he still wanted to know what was going on at home.

The night of his escape, Harry had been in a world of pain. He'd flown as far as he felt he could, and until he could end up in a town big enough to disappear in. On the flight that had seemed like forever, he had taken some time to think about what had just happened and what lay ahead for him. Harry knew the right thing to do was to turn around and fly as fast as possible back to Hogwarts, but even if he felt he could stay conscious long enough for that trip journey, he wasn't sure it was a journey he wanted to take. He knew that people would never believe him if he came back, shouting from the rooftops that Lord Voldemort had risen again. Most of the school was still angry at him for simply being tricked into entering this stupid competition, and he still didn't know how that happened.

When Harry wearily landed behind a building, he looked down at himself and realized there was no way he could pass as a muggle. He also knew he needed to store away his possessions now, because he was draining quickly and needed to find medical help soon. He quickly found a dark corner that looked like it hadn't been touched in years, took his outer robe off and it hid, along with his broom, under an invisibility cloak. The best way for him to live now, he thought, would be to blend in like he was normal.

"Ha!" he muttered. "I'm anything but normal. I've never even been able to imagine what normal was."

After hiding his treasures, he followed the curve of the building to find a well lit, well traveled street with dozens of people strolling along, like nothing had happened that night. He was fading quickly and, as he crashed to the pavement in a painful faint, all he could think of was that he hoped no one would recognized the scar on his forehead.

Harry had woken up in a comfortable bed and with a horrible headache. It was dark outside, so he assumed that not much time had passed. He had no clue where he was, but he did know he couldn't move his leg and his arm was in a tight sling. Looking around from his current position, he could see a light blue curtain on the window, and white ceilings and walls, but not much more. He tried to sit up to get a better look at his surroundings, but that just managed to make him dizzy, so he laid back down. He was thirsty, but there didn't seem to be any think to drink in the vicinity. He felt safe, though, and that was the most important thing. Closing his eyes, he drifted off once again into oblivion.

The next time Harry woke up, he was being vigorously shaken by someone. His throat was dry, and he was shivering with a cold sweat all over his body.

"Come on, son, Wake up!" The man shouted at him, lightly slapping him on his cheek.

Harry slowly blinked open his eyes and stared at the man.

"Thir-sty," Harry scratched out with a cough.

The man ran out of the room, only to quickly come back with a glass of water. He gingerly put it to Harry's lips and in turn, the teen greedily let the cool liquid slide down his throat. As Harry continued dipping the drink, the man introduced himself.

"My name is David and you're at my house. My wife and I found you in the middle of the street, and we were going to take you to the hospital, but just weren't sure if you could make it. We brought you here, then called the doctor and the police-"

"The police?" Harry asked trying to sit up.

David pushed him back down saying "Well, we don't know anything about you and we felt it was the best course. They didn't do anything, though, besides take some pictures of the scene where we found you. They said they'd be back when awoke. We were starting to wonder if that would ever happen."

"How long have I been out?"

"We found you four days ago, and you've been asleep since then. If you are feeling well enough, do you think you could tell us what happened? Maybe a name?"

Avoiding the topic of what had happened, he answered "My name is Harrison Rigsby."

The next three months mainly consisted of Harry trying to heal. His leg was finally out of the limiting cast. David Pennington and his wife, Marie had been nice enough to let him stay at their house, but as soon as he was able, he found a job at a local bookstore, sitting behind a counter all day. When the police had arrived to question Harry further, he had turn on his charm and managed to pass it off and get by question easy enough to be forgettable to all but the police record.

During those months, he had used the money from the bookstore to alter his appearance slightly, hoping that, if someone did see him, they wouldn't notice anything. His new light brown hair was first, then contacts, making his eyes a bright light blue, and then, most importantly, a thick makeup, promising on its label to cover all blemishes, no matter the size or color, was applied to make the infamous scar all but disappear.

In late August, Harry told the Penningtons he was going to make a daytrip to London and be back that night. They were paranoid about a boy his age leaving on his own, even if only for a day, but they had learned during the months he was responsible, independent person. But, even with their hesitations, they drove him to the train station and saw him off for his journey to the city.

The train itself would have taken Harry straight to his destination, but he longed to do something he hadn't done in months. He had gone after his belongs from their safe hideaway soon after waking up finding them, thankfully, untouched and in tact. So, after getting off the train at the first stop, he unpacked his broom, whipped his cloak around himself, and headed off to The Leaky Cauldron.

When he entered the pub, he was extremely nervous about being noticed, but thankfully he had had the foresight to wear sunglasses and a hat, hoping it would prevent any attention to him.

Harry's first step entering the familiar alley was to exchange some of his muggle money. While at Gringotts, he wished he was able to take out some money, but, not only was his key with all of his other belongings, but he knew the second he identified himself, he'd be whisked back to Hogwarts, or even worse, the Dursleys. Instead, he just kept on his mission, quickly handing some money to the booth goblin and keeping his head down the entire time. His next goal was to find a copy of the Daily Prophet. Even though he'd been incommunicado with his world, he still longed to know what was going on. It took him longer than he expected to find the paper, but once he did, he was in complete shock. The giant front page story read

"**Minister Still Missing**"

_On the two month anniversary of the disappearance, citizens of the United Wizard Kingdom are sill wondering where their Minister is. He was last seen one week after announcing the return of 'He-who-shall-not-be-named,' and only two days after the trial to free ex-convict, Sirius Black. _

The Daily Prophet has since learned that both of the sources for these dramatic announcements came from Triwizard Champion, Cedric Diggory. Diggory is said to have witnessed Peter Pettigrew, previously believed to be murdered, carrying a small fetus, recognized by the red snake-like eyes to be 'He-who-shall-not-be-named.' Diggory returned to the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament alone, after entering the final stage of the Task with Harry Potter, more on Page 4.

It is not known whether the Minister left on his own terms or was coerced. Auror Kingsley Shacklebot has been named acting Minister in his stead. Citizens are starting to wonder if he is the man for the job, seeing as there have been five attacks since Minister Fudge disappeared.

If you see him, Peter Pettigrew, or Harry Potter, please owl the Ministry at…"

Flipping ahead several pages, Harry only had to read "**Harry Potter: Is he alive?**_ 44 of you don't believe so_," to fold up the newspaper and stick it in his back pocket to finish later.

Harry only had one more thing to do while in Diagon Alley, and that was to head to Flourish and Blotts. He longed to do magic, but knew the instant he performed even the smallest charm with his wand, he'd be found. He'd heard rumors in Hogwarts about wandless magic being untraceable, and he thought he'd get a book to read up on the subject. Even though he was breaking off from his world, if only temporarily, he knew that Voldemort would be still looking at him, and he needed some way to improve on his skills. This was just one way he could practice daily.

After purchasing his books, he headed out of the Alley, only to feel someone staring at him. He looked around at his surroundings, but it wasn't until he heard a loud "HARRY!" that he knew he'd been found. He whipped around and found Remus Lupin and Sirius Black running straight towards him.

He ran as fast as he could to the exit, but he felt people pulling at him, trying to help in the catch. It seemed that everyone had recognized him, and he needed to get away. Somehow he managed to get through the Diagon Alley exit, through The Leaky Cauldron and out into the street. It seemed like a dozen people poured with him. Working as he ran, he uncovered the invisible room he'd been carrying, hopped on and took flight, charms and spells trying to stop him flying passed him at great speeds. He dodged each, and making.

It was late at night before Harry arrived home at the Penningtons. After assuring David and Marie he was still in one piece, he headed upstairs to think about the day. Laying in his bed, he reflected on his time since his arrival in this small town and how blessed he'd been to find the small family he'd assembled. He loved visiting his world, but he seemed to fit in this one. Knocking him out of his thoughts, he heard a soft tapping noise. Looking around he didn't see anything, until he glanced at the window. Pale-faced and shaking, he opened the window to allow his first friend in life to soar in and land on the small desk. Hedwig held his leg out, obviously angry at Harry, but did not let that detour her in her duty. She angrily hooted, telling him to get the blasted thing off his leg, and not wanting an angry owl to attack him, Harry quickly ripped the letter off. Unfolding the paper, he could tell from the angry writing who it was from. Sirius. It wasn't the person it was from that bothered him, though, it was the contents that made him turn around and start packing.

"Don't even think of moving Harry. I've attached a tracking spell Hedwig and we are on way. I don't know what you think you're doing, but we're bringing you home, now."

A/n: Hi guys, I haven't proofed this yet, but I'll do so this weekend. I wanted to get it out for yall to read.


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